


Changing Tides

by prismaticore



Category: Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon)
Genre: I don't know when this is supposed to take place in relation to the show's timeline, M/M, Obsessive Behavior, sorry mom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 21:26:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3825652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prismaticore/pseuds/prismaticore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You're a strange one, child,” the Beast said. “Others run from me, yet you seek me out.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Changing Tides

**Author's Note:**

> After discovering that Beast/Wirt is in fact a thing that exists, I was rather heartbroken to discover that there is a dearth of fanfiction for it. So here is my contribution.  
> It was tempting to write something more racy, but I quickly decided against it. It’s difficult for me to imagine the Beast as a sexual being, though I feel he could certainly indulge and some mutual obsession.

     It was a strange, morbid fascination. Wirt would have felt more guilty, perhaps, were it not for the fact that everything was strange and morbid here; after wandering these lands for so long, he'd become infected by their oddness.  
      The snow was freshly-fallen and thin. When Wirt lifted up his shoes, he could see blades of grass poking up from his footprints, defeated for now but never perturbed. He could feel cold wetness seeping into his socks. His soul and his soles were worn thin.  
      That was when he heard the familiar sound; one that was low, beautiful, and filled with horror. Wirt followed it. The Beast was near.  
      Wirt could barely admit it to himself, but privately he felt there was something so enticing about him. The glow of his eyes was mesmerizing, and the mystery in the shadows he donned appealed to Wirt's dramatic side. Knowing that the opaqueness of his silhouette camouflaged a ghastly form made it somehow more exhilarating.  
      Twilight was slowly obscuring the woods. As he neared the source of the macabre sound, he saw a darkness within the darkness. He was close now. Wirt wondered if the Beast ever sensed him approaching. It was a silly thought, for surely he did, but his opera of one continued unaffected. Wirt's heart beat quick and steadfast, filling his cheeks with blood and his head with absolutely nothing but awe. He hated himself. He hated this fate. But it was his burden to bear.  
      The refrain ended and the Beast grew silent. The woods were devoid of noise save the thumping in Wirt's chest.  
      “You watch so often, but you never come out,” the Beast stated simply.  
      Wirt's veins ran cold.  
      “T-there's nothing here but us trees,” he said, perhaps in some attempt at humor.  
     The Beast did not laugh.  
     “Come out, Wirt. I want to see your face.”  
     Wirt obeyed mechanically, every muscle fiber resisting and yet compelling him on. His breath became quick; it could barely leave his nose before being sucked back in. The Beast turned to him, his eyes so bright it hurt momentarily.  
      “You're a strange one, child,” the Beast said. “Others run from me, yet you seek me out.”  
      “I have to.” Wirt replied absentmindedly. He didn't even have the capacity to berate himself for saying it.  
      “Even knowing what I am?” the Beast pressed.  
      “Especially knowing what you are.”  
      Wirt stood before him. He was imposing, impossibly tall. He could see the texture in the Beast's fur cloak, but everything else was completely flat. The monster produced a single arachnoid hand, lifting Wirt's chin with his finger. It was tepid and a bit coarse. Wirt looked into his eyes, their cold light reminiscent of a fluorescent bulb. His stomach felt fuzzy and warm. He knew he should have been afraid – and he was – but all he could do was smile the most genuine smile he had in months, maybe years.  
      “I’ve been observing you, too,” the Beast said in almost a whisper.  
      Despite himself, Wirt’s face flushed deeper.  
      “I want you,” the monster pronounced.  
      Back home, those words were so clear-cut. Here, they were an enigma. The Beast’s empty countenance held no answers.  
      Did it matter?  
      Slowly, achingly Wirt reached out to hold him. He felt as if his arms were encompassing a compressed, forbidden universe. He could feel all the dark knowledge, the secrets, and mysterious emotions the creature held. The Beast embraced him in return, plunging Wirt into the void. It was like being sucked into a black hole; no light, no sound, only feeling himself bend and warp as he was absorbed. It could be described only as a religious experience.  
      “C-can I kiss you?” Wirt stuttered into his chest.  
      The Beast leaned down, contorting himself slightly in a manner quite inhuman. Their lips met with some friction, and Wirt worried briefly that he might get splinters. His movements were cautious at first, and perhaps a bit fidgety. He felt giddy, his emotions barely contained within his comparatively small frame. He clutched at the shadows, desperately trying to pull himself closer. The Beast’s fingers creeped behind Wirt’s neck, curling slightly into his hair. Wirt forced his motions to become more decisive, more insistent, even ravenous. The Beast tasted of spoiled flesh and pine needles; Wirt’s mouth slicked with oil. He bit the wood so hard he nearly worried it would crack. At some length, they pulled apart.  
      “I’ve never kissed anyone before,” Wirt panted lowly.  
      He felt hazy and distant; the intensity within him only moments before flowed out precipitously. The Beast stroked his cheek slowly, in a way one could almost imagine was affectionate. Wirt leaned into the touch, his heart swelling painfully.  
      “Go, child,” said the Beast.  
      “What?”  
      “Go,” he repeated, pushing Wirt away.  
      “But why?” the boy asked incredulously.  
      “I’m only sparing you.”  
      “Sparing me?” Wirt cried. “No. No. I’m not going to just walk away after all that.”  
      The Beast sighed a long, windy sigh. It seemed neither exasperated nor sad.  
      “I do not love, boy. I only devour,” the Beast stated. “I have no heart, and thus there is no room in it for you. Leave now, and save yourself. I will not let you escape again.”  
      “I don’t want to escape,” Wirt insisted.  
      The Beast turned away from him, rendering the woods pitch-black.  
      “Farewell.”  
      “Wait!” Wirt shouted. “I’m not letting you go!”  
      He reached out his hand to grasp the Beast’s cloak, but the creature bled into the darkness and evaporated.  
      “This isn’t over!” Wirt yelled, nearing tears. “You can’t hide from me!”  
      Wirt clenched his fists hard, his nails nearly puncturing his palms. He held back sobs as he crouched close to the ground, watching droplets fall from his nose to create tiny holes in the snow. He had flown so very close to the sun, bathed in its brightness and beauty, only to be cast back into the water. He needed to find somewhere to dry his socks.  
      He wandered through the trees, eventually reaching a meadow. Through the clearing he could see the dying cries of sunset, the red and purple receding into frigid blue. The fading light of the sky no longer offered warmth, but it was comforting in its own way - especially since it showed him a house off in the distance. When at last Wirt reached a hearth to dry his tattered attire, his heartache had eased. He had been lost many times before, and he knew from experience that he would find his way back. His love would not leave him so easily.


End file.
